You Owe Me
by The Assassin's Pen
Summary: Edward had been doing so well. One target, one spot, handful of guards. Okay, a dozen guards. Plus a few riflemen. And an alarm bell. But still, Edward had been doing *so* well. Edward gets beat up pretty badly doing a contract for the Assassins and James has to deal with his uncooperative behavior to patch him up. Mild Kiddway, rated for source material.


My sister requested Kidd dealing with Edward after a severe beating. This happened. Please no spoilers in any comments, I'm only just past the bit where we find out Kidd's an assassin.

* * *

Usually spitting up blood was a bad sign. Edward had been doing so well. One target, one spot, handful of guards.

Okay, a dozen guards.

Plus a few riflemen. And an alarm bell.

But still, Edward had been doing _so well_. And his target was dead…

He smirked to himself and coughed again, cradling his stomach and suppressing a groan as blood dribbled through his teeth. The riflemen hadn't been a big deal, he'd managed them with a few well-placed bullets of his own. It had been the swordsmen and the way they seemed to want to take it out on him rather than just finish him off. They intentionally attacked with the backs or butts of their blades, throwing punches or kicks as often as not. Edward was good in a brawl, he was really good with both his blades.

He was not so good against a dozen men at once. His breathing was growing difficult and it felt like his ribs were severely bruised. He groaned and dug his head into the rickety side of the pigeon coop, pushing weakly into a sitting position. He was bleeding, but it was mostly superficial cuts weeping over the more serious bruising that was steadily making him stiff. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing, his hands sticky with the blood wetting the side of his uniform.

"Bloody hell, they are not paying me enough for this," he muttered.

"No? And how much would you like for making a mess of a job and scattering casualties like flies, captain Kenway?"

He looked up just in time to catch the sack of coins she was tossing to him, snatching it out of the air and opening it with a bruised finger, counting quickly in his head.

"The contract said 1500 Royales," he said, gesturing with the bag. "What is this pittance?" he spat, throwing the bag at Kidd's feet.

"That pittance is the standard thousand we promised you for killin' your target," she said, folding her arms. "The extra five hundred was for doing it without gettin' noticed."

He scoffed, bloody mucus clogging his throat. He spit it into the dirt and got painfully to his feet, swaying and slapping Kidd's hand away when she reached out to steady him. She backed up, hands held in surrender.

"Alright fine, topple over in your own blood, that's fine by me. But you took quite a beatin, might want to sit down, let someone look at them ribs before you crack yourself open."

"I don't need your advice, boy," Edward scowled, taking a step and stumbling when his knee popped painfully. "And how do you know what happened? Weren't you off pluggin' stones into walls or the like?"

She shrugged, rolling her eyes to one side. "Who knows what I was doin', but I had to be in the area to pay you or we'd never hear the end."

His eyes went wide and he squared his shoulders up, pushing into her space. She stared at him calmly and didn't back up. "You were watching that whole time, weren't you?" he exclaimed. "You saw them gang up on me, saw the shots they were taking and you what, sat back and enjoyed the bloody show?!"

She shrugged one shoulder, tipping her head. "You saying you needed help, Kenway?" she teased, half a smile quirking her lips and making him angrier. "I thought for certain a strapping captain like yourself could handle a few drunken guards. You weren't in any danger, else I would've stepped in. Cross my heart."

"Course I could handle them," Edward spat. "And I handled my target and got a right nasty beating at the same time, so I think you owe me the five hundred at least."

"S not the way this works, Kenway," Kidd tutted, reaching out a hand and catching Edward's jaw. She turned his head towards her and squinted, looking at the bloodied eye and the cut still seeping blood from his hairline.

He jerked his head away and snarled, dropping to one knee to gather his royales out of the dust. "Then that's not the way I work," he retorted, clutching his gold and staggering back to his feet, knocking Kidd's shoulder with his own intentionally as he headed for the pub. Normally his childish action would leave him no pain, but this time he forgot that that was the shoulder attached to the ribs that hurt so badly so he doubled up, his breathing wet.

Any remaining dignity spilled into the dust with the royales and Kidd watched him struggle for a few seconds before taking pity and gripping his bicep, looping it over her shoulder and hefting him up. He was worse than she thought, and she started to worry that maybe she should have stepped in. Kenway was an ass, but she didn't want to see him permanently hurt or killed.

"Come on, I'll look you over. Let's get back to the Jackdaw."

"Not without my pay you don't," he said, struggling to pull away. She jerked his hand and wrapped her other arm around his waist, forcing him to keep walking towards the docks. "I'll pay you back later. For now let some poor lucky devil take your prize and worry about that blood you keep dribbling up. You were supposed to spill Fink's blood, not your own you novice."

"I know how to handle a fight, thanks very much," he said, still struggling against her grip. She tightened her hold around his torso, which made his muscles go hard as he sucked a shuddered breath.

"I know you can, Kenway," she said, patting his forearm and practically dragging him back to the Jackdaw. "I know you can."

"What happened to him?" Adewale asked, grabbing Edward's other side and helping Kidd get him to the cabin.

"Got into a fight, what else?" James answered, laying Edward on his cot. Adewale stepped back, his brow furrowed as he shook his head.

"He does this too often."

"Maybe if you tell him that yourself he'll actually listen. Seems anythin' I say goes right through his empty head," she said, observing the captain. He didn't respond, he just curled onto his less damaged side and pulled a blanket over his head petulantly. "I'll stay with him, give him a good lookin over, make sure he's not going to die on us in the night."

Edward cursed her in Spanish and she rolled her eyes, trading a look with Adewale.

"Watch the Jackdaw, I'll keep you informed," she said, sitting next to Edward on his cot and tugging at his collar. He shrugged his shoulders up and growled, fisting his hand in the blanket he'd drawn over his head.

Adewale bowed out, but not without a look of resigned longsuffering at Edward's behavior. Kidd could sympathize, but she knew she could handle him.

"Come on Edward," James pressed, getting frustrated. "You need a looking over."

"Sod that!" Edward exclaimed, pulling the blanket away and curling away from Kidd. "I need a drink and a long time away from you and your fancy order."

She folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "Fine, then I'll just let you bleed all over your blankets."

Edward opened his mouth, then closed it, curling back up and turning his back on her. She got up and stalked away, glancing back at him surreptitiously with her enhanced vision. He would be unconscious soon, and then she'd look him over in peace.

She spent the time preparing the supplies she'd need and walking around his cabin, observing his trophies, running her fingers over his trinkets. She picked up the remains of a broken ruby necklace and held it up to the light, trying to understand why he wanted gold so badly. She doubted he lusted after anything else with the same fervor. She was a pirate, that was true, but she more used the label for convenience, for freedom. Her real purpose lay with the assassins. Edward—she sighed and set the trinket down, making her way back to his cot where he'd mercifully passed out.

She sat next to him and lay a hand on his forehead, pleased that at least for now he wasn't running a fever. Gently, she turned him onto his back and began undoing his armor, peeling away the layers to expose his bruised body. She was reminded of shelling a crab, the way the shell cracked away until the vulnerable inside was exposed.

A fragment of some ancient spearhead was tucked between his shirt and the thicker fabric of his coat and she retrieved the piece, holding it up to the light. It was etched silver tipped in gold, and it was still warm with his body heat. Maybe that's why he wanted gold so badly, she mused. He really just wanted armor and freedom, and to him, that's what gold did. If that was the case he wasn't so different from everyone else.

She set the fragment of spear aside and finished stripping him down, pulling him into a sitting position to slump against her shoulder so she could work his sleeves off. Very gently, supporting his spine and the back of his head, she lay him back down, noting that there wasn't any noticeable swelling or stiffness in his back. Just a lot of bruising. That was good, it meant his spine was not damaged and that after the stiffness from the bruising went away he'd be fully capable of climbing the _Jackdaw_ and wielding his swords.

She was more concerned about his head and his ribs, so she reached across him and grabbed a stump of candle, lighting it with a quick spark off of her hidden blade. She thumbed his eyelid open and passed the candle in front of each eye in turn. The bloody sclera aside, his eyes reacted to light and he jerked away suddenly, tensing up and scowling at her. It was a strange thing to witness, seeing his eyes unconscious and then suddenly focusing and alert.

"What're doing?" he slurred, but she grabbed his wrists and held him still.

"Oh stop fightin Kenway," she snapped, forcing his head back down. "You've hit your daft head so hard your eyes aren't workin right and I still haven't seen to your ribs. You've a right nasty bruise bloomin cross your back though."

Edward grimaced. "I can feel it."

"Right, hurts, don't it? Now you going to cooperate?" she asked, holding up a bandage that she'd been intending to wrap his head with. He made a face but he nodded. "Thanks very much," she said, reaching up to steady his head as she cleaned his cut and wrapped his head.

His expression twisted and he avoided looking at her. "You still owe me a thousand royales."

"I'll get round to it, how's your head feel?"

"Like I had a keg of rum without the pleasure of actually having had a keg of rum," he grumbled.

"I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to correct that imbalance when you can move again. How're your limbs, you still able to wiggle your toes?"

He stared at her and just made an obscene gesture with his hand.

"Good, glad to see everythin's in working order, save for maybe those ribs," she said, nodding to the dark mottling almost obscuring his tattoos. It went from just under his armpit to the top of his hip on his left side, and when she reached out to touch it she almost winced for him.

"My ribs did their job, that's why they hurt and I'm still breathing," Edward ground out, shying away from the touch. All the same, James kept her hands on his side, pressing gently into the damage to try and see how bad it really was. Edward stiffened under her hands but he remained still, fisting his hands in the blankets and turning his head away. He was grinding his teeth and his eyes were closed.

She ran her thumb along each rib, following its curve beneath muscle hot and rigid from abuse. Edward was breathing sporadically and had begun to sweat, but she didn't let up. Something shifted when her thumb came to the cartilage between his seventh rib and his sternum, and he all but yelped, a miserable whimper interrupting his growl as he jerked away.

"Sorry, Kenway," she said, continuing her examination and watching the way his brow twisted with the agony. "Nearly done," she assured him quietly, running her thumb along the bottommost rib all the way to the point where it melded with his sternum. He held his breath, panting when she finally took her hand away.

"Well, you've got a cracked rib bout mid-way down, the rest I reckon aren't broken, just badly bruised. I am wonderin about that color though," she said, laying a hand across the area and feeling for swelling. "Does the skin feel tight? You could be bleedin internally."

Edward shook his head and grabbed Kidd's wrist, pulling her hand away this time in a desperation, like he'd been controlling himself and just couldn't anymore. He gasped one deep breath that stole the color from his face and for a moment she really thought he was going to pass out. He didn't though, he just lay there on his back, his head pressing into the pillow as he struggled to breathe.

"Easy Edward," she said, placing a hand on his amazingly undamaged shoulder. "Easy. You can breathe. There's more than enough air, you'll be all right." Edward was covered in a sheen of sickly sweat but he was able to calm, laying there with his eyes half lidded as though thoroughly exhausted.

"There's just one more thing I want to do, make sure I'm not wasting my time on a dead man," she teased, pressing her fingers into the base of his throat. His pulse was strong and fast, pounding with a fervor only fight or agony could cause. That was a good sign, it meant he probably wasn't bleeding into his chest cavity.

"Just don't move, and try to breathe as deeply as you can stand" she said, turning her head and very carefully laying her ear against his chest. She felt him tense and his hand gripped her shoulder, but it was him trying to contain himself and obey, not push her off. She closed her eyes and focused her senses, concentrating everything into her hearing. She drowned out the creak of the Jackdaw's salted beams, hushed away the flap of the sails and the lap of the water, and honed in on the minute details inside Edward's body.

She'd only done it a few times, on missions that really, really mattered, but she'd learned to hone her hearing down to where she could pinpoint her target and his heartbeat at thirty paces. Now, doing the same thing at such an intimate range allowed her to hear _everything_ , even the painful scrape of damaged bone and the selective hitch in his left lung as he tried to breathe past it. She heard not only the heavy thud of his heart working but the current of his blood as it rushed out to every limb, already trying to repair the damage, to keep him warm, to ease his suffering. She heard no evidence of a torn vessel or abnormal pressure. He had some damage to get rid of, but for the most part his body had stayed in the order God designed it. Slowly, she eased her way out of the trance and lifted her head, sitting back on the bed and regarding her weary patient.

"Good news is you're not bleedin inside and if you don't move much your ribs should stay put and leave your lungs be," she said, reaching over and grabbing more bandages so she could bind his chest and minimize further damage.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not about to move unless there's a pint calling for me," he said, his breathing uneven as he obligingly worked with her to sit up so she could finish wrapping him. When she was done he slumped back down as gently as he could.

She smirked a little and got up, digging through her coat. She produced a glass flask and twiddled it between her fingers where he could see it. His eyes widened and he looked at her accusingly.

"You've had that all along? You have any idea how much pain I'm in right now?"

"Aye, I do. I've broken a few ribs myself. I've also seen what a knock to the head can do to a man, and rum could send you straight to Davy Jones if you aren't careful."

"I'm willing to risk it," Edward said, reaching for the flask. James held it out of his reach and quirked her lips.

"What if I don't want to babysit you all night? You will pass out if you drink this, and I've better things to do than sit ere and make sure you keep on suckin air."

"Then bloody well go and if I die I'll die happy," he growled, pushing up and reaching for the flask. She lowered it so he wouldn't damage himself trying to get it from her and let him take it. She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands, watching him drink the whole thing in two solid swallows. At that point numbing the pain was more beneficial than denying him the drink anyway.

The relief he felt came a few moments later and Kidd slipped the flask out of his limp fingers, tucking it back in her coat. His eyes were only half open and he was breathing shallow through an open mouth.

"Rest well, Kenway," she said, ruffling his hair as she passed him. He was asleep before she left the cabin to update Adewale on his condition.


End file.
